I am not sure what I’m feeling
As I, once healthy,
Walk through the thicket. It
Reminds me of the growth
Defined by overgrowth, of
The cancerous sort, a line drawn
In the sand that marks those
Alive and those even more
So.

I am not sure how I feel.
The feeling rages until it
Is looked for. Then, it all
But disappears, leaving me
Exhausted, confused, and alone.
Well, it has happened once
Before.

Back, long ago, when my hair
Grew past my knees, and
My elbows were always
Skinned from running,
Tripping, falling in glee.
Those were simple days,
Until the day where it all
Came spilling down, and
I was lonely.

I stared at walls,
Washed white like bone dust
And caking like mud in
Those volcanic mud pots.
It smelled like it, too,
Maybe not the rotten egg
Sort of smell, but one just
As stomach turning.

I’d always fiddle with the
Edge of my sheets–tears,
Well, they’d threaten to
Fall as the doctor came and went,
Sometimes sticking needles in
My sore, worn, bruised crook
of the arm. Too many have been
Stuck there before.

I ached. My bones ached.
Everything ached,
But, I hated the nurse more.
The doctor at least was
Apathetic. He would tell me
Directly–no softening of words–
Exactly my plight. She, however,
Tried to cushion it, covering it
With a heavy layer of sugar
And pity.

I would ignore her and stare at
Those powdery white walls, trying
Not to feel for hair long gone,
Like the ghosts that line the
Closets of my dreams, the ones that
Come out to play at night. Instead,
A bare–no, let’s be real–a bald
Head would meet my hand.

I wouldn’t say that I am
Better now. I’ve recovered,
True, but that roller-coaster
Of emotion, I am still strapped
On it. They say the cancer is
Gone, but there is always
That fear, lingering, hiding
In the corner of my mind
In a mocking manner, and
Because of it, I cannot
Sleep.

Instead, I stare at powdery
Blue walls, and contemplate
Exactly what it is I am
Feeling, until the feeling
Runs away amidst the memories–
Ones between it and I–of a
Time when I once ambled through
The same thicket as I did
Today–a child once blissful.
And now I wonder, was it then
That I lived a life without
Pain? And where did that
Bliss go?

He wasn’t going to make it. He felt it the moment his feet left the air duct. He reached out as far as he could, stretching his limbs to their utmost, but fell just a few centimeters short. His hand brushed the rail as it slipped past his grasp. A spark of electricity ran through his fingers when it did. He felt his stomach drop as he fell.

“Seven!” He heard Lex yell.

Then, the world flipped.

Seven hung in the air for a second before slamming into the cooling unit. It hurt. The railing caught him right in the gut. His stomach crawled up his throat, and he vomited.

“Seven! Are you alright? What happened?”

It took him a second before he could respond. “It went back, I think,” he said hoarsely.

Seven stood in a large field. Wind flowed past him, making the long grasses sway like waves. It was quiet except for the wind. He briefly thought it strange. His whole life there had always been something buzzing in the background. He tried to pull up his blue screen, but nothing happened.

“&%$*#:@,” a sweet voice called out. It was a name, he realized. His own name. Not a number, a real name. If only he could have heard it clearly. He turned towards the voice and saw Alicia standing a ways behind him. Suddenly, he was very little. He cried in delight and ran towards her.

“Mama!” he laughed as he wrapped his short arms around her leg. She chuckled and ruffled his hair before planting a kiss on his head.

“How are you, my little imp? Did you have a good day?”

“It was scary, but Mama’s here, so it’s okay now,” he showed her a toothy grin. (more…)

Director Nero was frustrated. The mass production of Number 7’s serum was taking longer than was planned. Unexpected difficulties continued to crop up one after another. The People’s Army wouldn’t be pleased with the set backs. They were getting more and more annoyed with Pandora as time passed. Even though Pandora’s recent breakthroughs had been significant, especially within the last four years, it wasn’t enough to pacify their growing displeasure.

He looked through the manufacturing statistics. If things went well, it would be three days until the first batch of one hundred was done. The USCU wanted at least a hundred more such batches. It would be difficult, but once they got the first batch out, they would have gotten all the kinks out of the manufacturing line, and the process would then be completely automated.

On the bright side, Number 8, the man they had injected Number 7’s serum into three months ago, continued to be preforming well. His regenerative abilities and his resistance to radiation were both extremely high, proof that the serum worked better than he had hoped.

“Are you better now, Seven?” Johan asked, helping the boy sit up. Seven nodded. He had calmed down. The whole experience shook him up, but now that he had a chance to breathe, he started to become excited.

That was flying, right? He could fly! How freaking cool was that?

“Can you do that again? Can you float? I mean, you came down just fine. Would you be alright trying again, or are you going to panic?”

Putting aside his thoughts about the disturbing Andan Bach, Seven stretched his sore muscles. He healed a lot in the time he researched the sergeant. He felt much better. Though stiff and frail, he no longer had the debilitating pain.

It worried Seven that just one experiment reduced him to such a state. If he stayed in Pandora to experience any more of them, he might wind up dead. He had to escape. He had to get as far away from that man as possible. But, to where? Where should he go to be safe?

New Poland. Not the main country, just one of those in the coalition. Somewhere where he wouldn’t stand out, but a country with little ambition, he decided. Nordsland was a viable option. People had fairer skin there. He could probably blend in better. But, could he really travel the some 3,000 miles from the USCU to Nordsland? And, alone at that? No, not likely. Seven bit his lip, worried about what he should do. It was just so risky.